REALIZATION
by Shelanoir no Mori
Summary: As if words alone can't describe their feelings, a song is born. As if there's still loneliness overlapping, a two-piece puzzle exists. 'REALIZATION' will soon change everything...


**Moon-Dash: **Merry Christmas! And the best Happy Birthday for our beloved Allen-kun!

Additional Author's Note (PLEASE READ THIS CAREFULLY!): The lyric was supposed to be Japanese, but since I don't attend any Japanese class, I have no idea about the vocabulary and grammar, and I had to write the song in English. So when you read, just understand that the song is only a translation.

The song is based on FictionJunction KAORI's 'Dream Scape' and 'Calling'; Kalafina's 'Oblivious', 'Kizuato', 'ARIA', 'sprinter', 'fairytale' and 'serenato'; Jyukai's 'Anata ga Ita Mori' and 'Komoriuta'; FictionJunction KEIKO's 'Kaze no Machi he'; and Number 201 's 'Ataraxia'.

And here… Our special Christmas gift (and a little surprise along the way, if you can recognize)! Enjoy!

* * *

 **Realization ******

**-****Christmas special-**

* * *

…_for eyes that'll open._

_...an everlasting song._

…_there'll be gentle promises and pounding hearts._

…_hearts beating in unison._

…_emotions overflowing._

…_step closer and give me your hand._

…_for just opened eyes._

* * *

He flopped on his bed exhausted, recalling his busy day at school. He wondered if learning at a private school with a guaranteed chance of graduation with high scores also meant working harder than a miner, judging by the thick books and a few assignment papers on the table. He really wished he could have enough free time to go to the grocery store without running as fast as possible to get back home on time for the assignments, or to hang out with his friends at the newly opened amusement park at the center of the city. He wished to have time to enjoy a little fun, or just simply to catch his breath and relax. Being a hard-working student meant focusing up all energy on achieving the best grades and memorizing as much of the lessons as possible, that was the concept of an 'idol student' of Kokutou High School. Speaking about the 'idol student'…

He blushed five shades of red recalling the image of a handsome Norwegian transfer student whose hair color was very much identical to his flustered face. He quickly became the 'idol student' of the school for his astounding intelligence, kindness and generosity. There wasn't a person at school who didn't know about his fame, and the number of girls who fell for him was probably enough to fill every seat within the Sydney Opera House. There was no one who didn't want to know about him, and he was even more famous (or notorious) for being the cause of the conflict between two groups of girls who blatantly declared themselves as his girlfriends. The girls were eventually called to the teacher's office and had to promise never to cause havoc at the school again. At last the school was saved, and the students didn't have to witness a potentially disastrous fight of about ten tomboys who excelled in archery, kendo and karate.

Back to the topic at hand, just a week after the 'idol' was transferred to the school, he realized he'd had a crush on the hot boy. That was quite awkward at first, considering his increased pulse and his crimson-turned face whenever seeing his secret crush, but he quickly got used to the feeling and learnt how to suppress it right away. He knew that if he confessed, the entire female population and some boys would give him a slow and painful death like the assassinations in movies, but wishes and hopes weren't something easy to be dismissed, as long as they were associated with human emotions and imagination.

It was extremely and heart-breakingly difficult to concentrate on doing homework when his mind was overflowing with images of gentle smiles, sparkling emerald orbs that were always accompanied with a soft and mellifluous voice gifted by angels. He mentally noted never to think about his crush before working on his study, or else his grades would drop and his dream to become a doctor would shatter like broken glass. It was simply his father's wish that he'd have the best future with promising advantages and a profitable job; his father always wished the best for his only son…

Speaking of which, he wished his father could've been here with him. He just returned to England to collaborate with a star model and a local magazine. He told him how hard it was learning how to take the best captures and arrange objects, moments and people in order to obtain the best pictures, being a professional photographer that he was, and how inspiration and emotions could change the view of one's pictures. He had once showed him a simple picture of a grassy meadow and asked him about how it looked, nodding upon receiving an answer on how it was an empty and boring landscape. He then explained that because he was 'alone' and had yet to have anyone to truly 'love' beside family, he saw the picture with a very basic view, and whenever he truly fell in love with someone, he'd find this picture more interesting and not as simple as before. It was a hard lesson to understand, even if simple words were used, but he had to say his father was a master of 'transdescent pholosophies'.

It was about six, so his father would call him soon. He called almost everyday, telling him about work in England and asking him about his health and study. He said his contract was almost done, and he'd come back as soon as possible, since he missed his son much more than the boy would be bery nice, since he'd been alone for nearly two months, and even if his father called very often and sent him a lot of gifts, he still felt sad and just… alone. He did wish his father was here, smiling and embracing him like he usually did when he was young, telling him about his life in England not through the phone, and promising that he'd stay forever… That'd sound childish, since he would reach his fifteenth year of life soon and could bear his life on his own, but wasn't having a family so that loneliness was avoided better?

The cell phone lit up and produced a melody for a coming message. He flipped the lid open and the screen said 'Lenalee'. She said the school's Christmas holiday would have a very interesting talent show for all students to participate in, which was divided into three categories: vocal, dance, and instrumentals. She suggested that he should join in with his top piano skills, and he had replied that she should too with her racehorse dancing legs and astounding flexibility. If she wouldn't join in, neither would he, and the next message said 'So we're both safe'. He sighed relieved and put the device on the table, concentrating on his waiting workload…

Even as an immigrant with his father, he'd been attending Japanese schools like native students and made a lot of friends. Among them there was a Chinese girl named Lenalee, who always helped him whenever needed, and a grumpy native kendo master who he jokingly nicknamed BaKanda, a compound between 'baka', Japanese for 'jerk', and his family name, Kanda. He found out his given name was 'Yuu' while helping the teacher bringing the test papers to the teacher's lounge, and had accidentally looked at the bastard's paper. He was told by Lenalee that calling him 'Yuu' was taboo, as the idiot hated such feminine names to hell, and he'd been trying his best to suppress the urge to tease him with the pronoun 'you' and the beautiful but hated given name. Despite having some sorts of rivalry to the kendo bastard, he still felt like making friends with him, no matter how often they engaged in arguments and sometimes wouldn't talk to each other for days. In comparison, Lenalee was a good friend who always tried her best to please others, so there weren't any complaint. But he still felt lonely, especially when sitting at home like this.

Seriously, he needed something to get this annoying feeling out of his mind. Anything but working and sleeping.

Dreaming awake?

Probably so.

Despite how much effort he used to try to concentrate on his homework, he still couldn't get images of the 'idol student' also known as his crush out of his mind. Only Lenalee and BaKanda knew about his crush, and the female sophomore had once tried her best to persuade Kanda into having a talk with his classmate, that 'idol' who got his mind all messed up. The Chinese girl approved of his feelings with her heart and soul, and would try anything to change his view of 'impossibilities'. But she was also a person who always kept her word, and since having promised to keep his crush a secret, even if she was a close friend of the 'idol', she'd never open her mouth to talk about it. He just wondered how she could make friends with the junior so easily…

His cell phone rang again, this time to annouce an incoming call. It was Lenalee again, he noticed the name on the screen, but hadn't she just sent him a message?

"_I just got the information about the talent show__,"_ said the girl cheerfully. _"The participants will have to do one performance per person, and the theme is freestyle. The bulletin board was surrounded, and I couldn't elbow my way, so I had to wait until the crowd broke up…"_

"It's all right, I understand," he was addled by the girl's patience and undefeatable curiosity. "Anyway, none of us want to participate in the show, so what did you try to get the information for?"

"_I'm the school's newspaper editor, and __doing researches on my subjects is my job,"_ replied the girl matter-of-factly. _"I expect the coming article to be the most interesting that I've ever writtten. And guess what? Senpai just joined in our unit, and of course I was the only girl in the room not squealing and jumping around like the world had run out of trash!"_

"Who among one-fourth of the school population?"

"_Just guess who! Kanda-kun knows him too well, and he was all perplexed and annoyed seeing the female editors acting strangely __for the rest of the entire day. Wait, they just left, so give me a minute to pause, OK? I don't want them to know about our conversation. All right? Ja ne!" _The call wasn't over yet, so he could hear the last word that the girl unintentionally shouted out to the room.

"_Lavi-senpai!"_

Five shades of red reappeared on his face unconsciously, and he found it even harder to turn his concentration to the homework. So Senpai had joined in the newspaper editing unit, after all… He worked in the same unit, too, so that would mean they'd encounter almost everyday as colleagues. How Fate arranged the 'impossibilities'…

"_I guess you're all blushing __if you were ignore my calling to you like that,"_ said Lenalee with a possible smirk tugging at her lips.

"W-What?" He stuttered. "I-I'm sorry! So what were you about to say?"

"_Oh, nothing__,"_ she replied blankly. _"I just want to announce that the number of the contest's participants from our unit have increased drastically."_

"Why was that?"

"_Oh, they told me they want to show Senpai what their talents are__,"_ the girl was probably covering her mouth to suppress her snicker. _"I suppose they can't just all win at once…Maybe I'll ask for Senpai's opinion in my article. What a special person he is…Wait, are they heading to the teacher's lounge?"_

"…What do you mean?"

"_They're carrying their test papers to the teachers__,"_ the girl whispered, _"But it seems Senpai is taking the turn to the music room."_

"Know why he's there?" He might have got infected with Lenalee's curiosity.

"_Why would he?"_ Replied the girl with a question. _"He usually visits the library for doing his schoolwork…But I don't really know the reason for him to visit the music room. Anyway, I want to know! I'm following him to the music room! All right then, see you later! This time I'm really turning off my phone!" Bip-bip…_

He raised an eyebrow quizzically. What was Senpai doing in the music room?... Oh right, he was supposed to finish his homework, not to wonder about useless things. He flipped his pen and started writing on his essay paper, the sound of the tip scratching against the newly-printed paper which still retained the aroma of ink erased his thoughts about off-topic subjects and the coming talent show.

* * *

He wasn't that much of a nosy person, but he suddenly found this urge to spy on Usagi in the music room. That was enigmatic, since the redhead had no business in music except studying, and he hadn't told anyone about his talent in the category. So now he found his legs moving along the trail of Usagi's footsteps, and he suddenly felt his job of being a temporary spy quite interesting somehow.

Ever since Usagi was transferred to the school, the usually boring atmosphere of a 'building for education only' was changed into a louder and more exciting one, with girls squealing and talking like mad, and more and more festive activities with all those talent shows and games. Quite a nice change for a model school, but sometimes a burden to him. As long as the activities still occurred, the newspaper editing unit would have to work harder and harder, which was supposed to be a wonderful advantage. But the workload just accumulated, and the editors found themselves reducing their free time to work overtime to provide enough articles for the printing stage. The number of newspapers printed had increased from a copy per month to two, and now it had turned into a weekly series. Lenalee wasn't complaining like her other colleagues, but he knew she was all cursing inside. What an influence the redhead had caused among the school…

And in return for the redhead's 'favor', he started calling the Norwegian 'Usagi', since his name was phonetically transcribed as 'Rabi" in Japanese, just one more step to become 'rabitto', the katakana transciption for 'rabbit'. Thus he changed from katakana to normal kanji, and the word was then transformed into 'Usagi', also sharing the same meaning. He liked playing with words, just like the redhead, and later their hobby was transferred to approximately ninety percent of the student population. One more thing included in the influence list, hence the redhead's affections were much heavier and more well-known, and things started to change gradually…

Especially on Moyashi. The midget had talked about his crush once when they were having lunch, and he nearly choked on his food in front of other 500 occupants of the hall. He wasn't laughing believing that this crush was a joke or being sarcastic, but he felt that Moyashi would have no chance to be with his seemingly oblivious love. Usagi was popular enough with his schoolwork, that was obvious, but he was also notorious with his insensitivity to love, since whenever he received a love letter from a crazy fangirl, he would just return the favor with an apologetic smile and a gentle excuse. A few male classmates of his also found themselves obsessed to the stupid 'idol', but unlike the girls, they didn't have enough courage to lower themselves and confess. And of course, Moyashi was no exception. A good example was when Moyashi was still a junior high school student. On Valentine's Day Lenalee advised him to give the redhead a box of chocolate like the normal tradition, but she secretly put the love letter that she'd found and stolen from Moyashi's bedroom on the day they were doing their editing at the midget's house into the box. Tragically, the letter wasn't signed, and the next day the redhead was all perplexed thinking the gift was from an anonynous fangirl. Lenalee cursed herself for her carelessness, while Moyashi didn't seem to be at all offended, since his love was still safely kept a secret and the chocolate was provided by the Chinese girl, meaning he didn't lose any money. Even if he felt a bit negative about Moyashi's feelings, he couldn't just bring himself to upset the freshman, being a carefully-educated student in diplomacy and civil education who usually kept his opinion to himself.

Things were just as normal as they should've been, but Moyashi seemed to have gained better control over his emotions, as he blushed less and had recently talked to Usagi normally. He wondered if the midget's reaction would be as humiliatingly clumsy as when he first talked to his Senpai, knowing his favorite 'idol' had joined their unit, and wished it wouldn't be like the female editors who just squealed uncontrollably, causing the whole unit to stop to cover their miserable ears and think about a potential event of a bottle opening contest in which whoever got the most lids won. Or a cotton bag opening contest if there weren't enough bottle openers acquired, at least that was the basic plan of the male editors who hadn't been obsessed with the oh-so-hot Senpai…

The door shut closed when he was just a meter away. He wondered if he should just come in or stand outside and use his sharp hearing to guess what was going on in the opposite side of the wooden board. After two seconds of quick considering, he decided to lean on the door and pressed his ear against the cool surface. He found himself strangely curious, a not-so-normal behavior that he'd ever had, which probably descended from his nosy female friend.

A mellifluous melody of the piano snapped his mind back to reality. He pressed his ear closer to the wooden board and, not believing in his hearing anymore, was instantly mesmerized with a smooth and gently sad melody that he hadn't heard before. The notes were like flying with the time flow, played moderately, just between level of piano and forte. But he could feel an overflowing emotion mixed with every single note, with the music going to crescendo and diminuendo alternately, with professional fingers pressing every single keys. It sounded really like a crossover between a cantata, a fantasia, a fugue, and an etude, with a gently mystical attitude resounding throughout the piece. The introduction was soft and original, and the level rose to crescendo in the interlude and coda, and just simply faded away upon reaching the conclusion. But the resonance was just so fantastic…

The song was over, and the talented musician paused for a few seconds before starting over. He found himself falling in love with the wonderful melody, but soon lost his mood when the music stopped all of the sudden. A four-second pause, and the melody was replayed, this time accompanied by a soft voice in the soprano range, and a pause again. What in the world was going on in there?

He felt the urge to go in so desperately, and unconsciously grabbed the doorknob and twisted it slowly. This time he truly and genuinely wanted to enter the room filled with such an angelic melody, and wondered what his reaction would be if the voice belonged to Usagi (since both his sharp hearing and his memory had pointed to the one and only one-meter-and-seventy-seven-tall rabbit). He wasn't quite ready to tackle the problem that if someone else knew, especially the fangirls, havoc would occur, and poor Usagi would have himself crashed and tortured mercilessly for super star signatures and gifts. Still, he was coming in, as signaled by a step on the wooden floor when the door was pushed open, and he instantly developed a thought that he should trust his intuition more.

Just as he'd predicted, Usagi was sitting there, his hands settled on the keyboard, a sheet of paper neatly placed on the music stand, filled with notes and words. Just like what his intuition had foretold.

But he missed the part of a surprised and panicked expression and incoherent responses to his sudden entrance.

"Y-Yuu! What are you doing here?" Well, he wasn't ready for this question, either.

"…Seriously, you should've registered for the talent show." It must've been a special occasion for him to actually compliment someone's work, even though the testament was just implied.

"Why?" The redhead tilted his head, withdrawing his hands from the keyboard and turned his body completely to face the newcomer.

"Look, you've got the talents of both a composer and a singer. Just damn express your ability to the school already!" He had to admit he liked the redhead's voice and piano playing, despite his lack of interest in music.

"…I didn't think you'd like my music, Yuu." Oops, he got his nerves.

"What are you composing for?" He leaned on the black grand piano and placed an arm on the frame.

"…It's a secret," replied the redhead quietly. He wondered if his vision was blurry, seeing a very light blush on Usagi's face.

"A secret lover?" He teased with an emotionless façade.

"…"

"I'll take that as a 'yes' then," he smirked.

"I didn't say so!" Usagi protested.

"But you didn't say 'no', either," he replied with a sarcastic tone.

"…You're a genius at mocking, Yuu."

"Call me that and I'll beat you to your bone, baka."

"I can't play the piano without my arm bones," said the redhead rubbing his wrist. "I can't sit straight without the vertebrae, pelvic girdle and my rib cage, and I can't move my arms without the clavicle, scapula, humerus, ulna, radius, carpals and phalanges, and about the muscles-"

"OK, OK! We've just studied about human skeleton and muscle terminology doesn't mean you can use the terms in a normal conversati- Wait a second, you've memorized the list?"

"It's like… Photographic memory?" Usagi flashed a confused smile. "It's a weird ability of mine… Thought it was a brain disorder, but it's actually specialized portions in the hippocampus and amygdala that helps me memorize every single detail of my vision."

"…We haven't even reached the chapter about the human brain yet," he rubbed his head perplexed. "Are you really a human? I think your memory is like, a part of your supernatural power? You seem to be full of surprise, baka Usagi, influencing the school and all those stupid fangirls…"

"Really? I have supernatural power?" The Norwegian blinked twice. "Wow… I didn't know you believed in imaginary things!"

"I never believed in such things," he scoffed. "You do look like having some sorts of psychological paranormal influence on everybody, like having some kinds of hypnotic power or something…"

"I don't have hypnotic skills," the redhead took the music sheet and rearranged the pages. "And hypnotism isn't paranormal, because it's a kind of scientific therapy... Anyway, you're kind of being talkative today… Why of all the su- Hey! Give it back!"

He snatched the note-filled paper and raised an eyebrow scanning through the staffs and bars. The music was complicated, he could hear cog-wheels working soundly in his head to project the melody, and the complex composition reminded him of Beethoven's and Franz Liszt's music. And he realized he was having serious twitching problems.

"…What the hell are you, baka Usagi?" He growled still trying to project the melody in his mind.

"…A normal human pre-graduate at Kokutou High School who has advanced memory and a bunch of fan clubs ready to chew his head off?" The redhead tilted his head childishly.

"…Not just that, baka." 'Moyashi is loving you to death, that's additional information.'

"So I have to tell everything in my biography?" Usagi broadened his smile.

"…No, I was complimenting your talent!"

"…Yuu-chan is complimenting me! Is today an Apocalypse?" The redhead squealed with his deep Norwegian accent.

"Call me that and you die." He didn't feel like saying that sentence anymore, having got used to the redhead's habit. "And I'm advising you _respectfully_ and _sincerely_: You should really register for the talent show."

"…No I won't." He was getting tired of Usagi's stubbornness.

"Why did you want to hide your talent away?" He leaned closer to his classmate.

"…To tell the truth, Yuu, I don't like being popular at all." He could feel the usually happy and comfortable atmosphere gone. "Everyone wants to be famous, so that they can have superior priorities in every category. But I just simply want to be normal, thus Fate just gives me fame and distinction…"

"You mean… you want to shrug off the burdens and enjoy a normal life of a regular student?"

Usagi just nodded, and he regretted suggesting the redhead to join the contest. He wouldn't want to upset anyone, especially on their distinct talents and popularity, and he wouldn't like to add Usagi on his list of fallen victims.

"…Play the song again."

"Pardon me?"

"I want to listen to your song again." He softened his words so that the sentence didn't sound really like an order, but was heavier than a request.

"…OK then." And the piano restarted its mellifluous tone, soothing and coherent, its gentile ringing notes blending with the rising atmosphere. The soprano wasn't included, since the redhead might want to keep the lyrics a secret, but the music was good enough to build up a modern masterpiece. He closed his eyes and enjoyed the overflowing emotions mixed within every note, every rise and fall of the tune, every part of the piece. Everything that would simply include tender sadness and a sincere confession of a heartfelt feeling…

His sharp hearing caught the sound of light footsteps from outside the room, which completely ruined his mood for the music. He stepped closer to the door, much to the pianist's confusion, and twisted the doorknob and pulled the door slowly open. "L-Lenalee?"

The Chinese was seen startled and… dumbstruck? She was just staring at him wide-eyed, while the music decreased to an adagio and pianissimo. En retenant and… estinto. The pianist stopped and turned to look at the newcomer with his previous shocked expression mixed with ambiguity and wordlessness.

"Senpai… You're so awesome!!" The girl squealed high-pitchedly, her expression similar to a sugar-high sweettooth. "Come on! Record the song and send the tape to me! Or create a file and send it to my computer! Or just give me the damn ringtone already!"

"Err…" He found himself addled and twitching awkwardly. "Lenalee… This is a brand new song… None of us have its music file or ringtone…"

"What do you mean 'a brand new song'? I research about music and I have to know whenever a new song is releas- Wait a second, do you mean…" She scanned around the room and spotted the staff paper on the stand. "Senpai…"

He could feel tension creeping into his and Usagi's muscles, and tingled absurdly. Lenalee was an expert 'investigator', a nickname that the whole editing unit gave to her formally for her rapid information collecting and her passion for reseraching, and obviously nothing in the world could escape from her falcon eyes. So now the juniors found themselves in a dangerous situation, with the possibility of secret discovery higher than a thousand percent.

"Senpai…" The eerie dark aura sent shivers along his spines, indicating the Chinese was in her 'investigator' mode again. "Did you compose this song…?"

He didn't find any reason to hide anymore, so tension was no need. "What if I have the proof for a 'yes'?" The redhead elbowed him in annoyance and dismay.

"…Senpai! You have such an awesome talent!" She squealed mimicking a fangirl's tone. "Why didn't you tell me about this before? I'm in need of an idea for my newest article, an-" He quickly covered her mouth, not wanting to hear any more of her newspaper topic.

"Shh! Please keep this a secret!" He emphasized the first word intentively. "We have only two secrets to keep, so just shut up!" He added in a whisper.

"…Oh yeah, right," she replied with an equal volume, and pushed his hand away from her mouth and turned her attention to her other Senpai. "But why did you keep it a secret? You could just tell me to keep quiet. We're the Quartet, remember? Aren't we trust-worthy enough?"

"…I just feel like keeping it a secret, Lenalee." Usagi was upset again. "Of course I trust all of you, we're an excellent Quartet, but being secretive and anonymous is more comfortable, right?" He nodded in approval, his ponytail swung slightly and a few strands clung on his shoulders.

The Chinese remained silent in a few seconds, and a smile curved on her rosy lips. "All right then," she had returned to her cheerful self. "I promise to Earth and Heaven that a secret is forever a secret, unless the host wants to reveal it by his will. I swear with my silence and honour that if I break my promise I'll have my tongue cut an-"

"The first part is enough, Lenalee!" He didn't want to hear anything related to death from a female sophomore's lips. The girl covered her mouth in a childish manner, suppressing laughter, her cheeks pink and matching with her ponytails perfectly.

"So… Senpai?" It was easy to know whether the girl was talking to him or Usagi, since she never called him 'Senpai', and always addressed Uasgi by anything but his true name. "Can you play the piece again? I'm really sorry I interrupted you the last time…"

"No problem. It's a pleasure to serve your requests." The redhead was truly kind to everybody, and he was all happy to do favors for others. The fingers slid over the keys smoothly, with the same rising and falling tunes, the natural music that didn't follow any normal concept or rule. The melody hypnotized both him and the Chinese journalist, and they felt all their pressure and worries gone in a blink of an eye. Especially him, who found himself hypnotized three times in a day.

And they were just immersed by the flowing melody that they forgot about the clock striking seven and the already ebony-turned sky.

* * *

He got home late that evening, against his usual habit, but still managed to have his homework done before midnight. Flopping on his white-sheeted bed, he vaguely recalled another busy school day with his usual burden, and his music talent discovered by his two fellows. It was probably a prelude to a very special event that his already twisted life was even more affected.

Ever since having been transferred to Kokutou High School, he had instantly stood out from the population and was adored by every single individual on campus. They all said it was because of his look, his striking intelligence and his kindness, but then he noticed he was the only Norwegian in this multiracial school. There was no one else from Northern Europe, so he felt a bit unique and… isolated. Most of the population were Japanese, but there were a few foreigners, both teachers and students. For example, that prank master Daisya Barry from Turkey, the art teacher Cloud Nine, his sophomore friend Lenalee, the also Chinese Bak, Fou and Lou Fa, a newly transferred Indian named Narein, and his white-haired British best friend and colleague…

Speaking of which, he wondered if his Asian friends had noticed, but he thought his quite unnatural reactions to the snow-top was very much noticeable. Lenalee would just simply drag the poor boy along with her during her so-called 'investigations', and she would then pull the boy to his place for some sort of 'asking for some good advices' session. At first he thought it was normal, but the girl would repeat the actions whenever he was present, acting heart-breakingly identically to a professional match-maker. He didn't like this kind of job, simply because it bothered people's most natural feeling namely 'love', and no one but Fate could determine such things. There were of course movies of 'romances that surpass destiny', but still, he believed that everything's life was already plotted, and that 'surpassing love' was fateful. Then maybe Fate had determined that he'd fall for a certain white-haired freshman who was also a victim of Lenalee's match-making scenario. That was probably bad news for his fan clubs, since the girls were goddamn crazy of him, but still, he denied their love for his true feelings' sake. He understood the concept of loyalty, and he'd follow it for his happiness and if possible, also for the others'.

It was a year ago when he first met the British after his transfer. A reserved and honest boy was his first impression, along with his comparable intelligence and his determination in pursuit of his dreams, which made him like to talk with the boy more than anyone else. And gradually, he found himself utterly obsessed to the soothing smile, bluish silver orbs and naturally quiet voice, and about a week later, realized the feeling was indeed called 'love' instead of 'more than friendship'. A rapidly growing interest, faster-than-normal pulse, and a foreign longing feeling whenever parting were everything that he could comprehend so far, hence those were enough proof for the obvious.

He buried his face in his jasmine-scented pillow, forcing himself to sleep despite his discomfort. He wondered when his parents would come, since they were all working in their home country, and his grandfather was too obsessed with his librarian occupation that he refused to leave Norway to live with his only grandson. He didn't know the true reason behind his transfer, but he followed his parents anyway. At least he had made a lot of friends so his loneliness was halfway relieved…

Suddenly he found this urge to sing out loud, gazing at the music sheet placed on top of the pile of notebooks. He stretched his hand to the paper and scanned through the piece, wondering if all his feelings had been successfully transmitted into the song. Even a fastidious judge like Yuu liked his music, that was the primal success, but he still felt something inncoherent and… Empty. There were still a fragment missing, it felt like that way, but he couldn't understand which one.

Maybe it was because he hadn't sung yet.

The melody, without an accompanying piano, sounded softer and more alleviating. It was easier to just sing than play the piano simultaneously, because the mind wasn't distracted by two actions at the same time, and he found his singing was smoother than it was a few hours ago. He wondered if this was the best gift he could ever give, but he knew he'd tried his hardest, and whatever happened next would be a mere response to his effort.

He hadn't revealed to anyone about his absolute hobby of singing, and neither had he showed them his talent for the category. He sang to relieve his emptiness and solitude, and he preferred to sing alone. So that no one would care, no one would know and remember the notes escaping from a desperately waiting heart and soul for its completion. He kept singing quietly to himself, savouring the melody floating in the cold atmosphere and falling like imaginary snowflakes. He didn't care if anyone could hear him, either, because they wouldn't know the singer was him, and as strangers they would just shrug off the melody and kept walking on their own way.

And he found himself surprisingly less lonely after letting out the last note that echoed in the almost empty room.

* * *

He yawned tiredly, slipping into his seat after greeting his classmates. The cold weather of winter could easily knock anyone out asleep, and adding to his staying up late for some random editing work last night, he could assume that he was totally defeated. A few of his classmates had caught a cold, due to their natural adaptability to hot climates and their weakness to cold weather, and luckily his British blood had inherited the perfect adaption to freezing temperatures and he was having the school coat covering him from the stiffening cold, or else his body would be a moving ice cube with a hot forehead and an overly flustered face.

He slowly put his books into the desk, and suddenly felt a sharp edge stabbing his finger. He withdrew his hand quickly and, thinking it could be the tip of a razor blade that could cut him so deeply, lowered his head only to see a small piece of paper neatly folded twice, and opened it to see only one word.

_REALIZATION._

"What the…?" He muttered closing the paper and shoved the piece into his pocket. He had absolutely no problem with his mother tongue, and he wasn't having any eye problem, either, but the word was unintelligible. He didn't think it was a prank from his highly-profiled junior, Daisya, and Narein seemed to be equally clueless. Lou Fa just shrugged, his sophomores Bak and Fou was too busy arguing to listen to his question, and his other classmates said they didn't see anyone putting the paper into his desk.

"Lenalee…?"

* * *

"Why in the world am I suspected?" The girl wailed like a lost child. "I don't know the purpose of this sender, and I never write letters without signing my name!" The Japanese took the paper and stared at the sole word in a daze.

"…What the heck is going on?" His sentence was barely audible. "First the baka Usagi revealed himself to have artistic talents, and then this letter appeared inside Moyashi's desk? Is this a criminal case or something?"

"Hey, I don't know what you're muttering about, BaKanda," the British scoffed. "But I heard you calling me with that name, and now I'm correcting it as ALLEN, YOU STUPID BASTARD!!"

"Che," the Japanese clicked his tongue and continued looking at the only word written with fresh black ink on the white surface.

"…Why is this word written in uppercase, Kanda-kun?" Lenalee asked pointing at the center of the piece.

"Hmm… Seems like a way of emphasizing to me," replied Kanda rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "But what exactly is the point of this emphasis?"

"Hey…" Allen took the paper back with two fingers. "When are Japanese words often capitalized?"

"Hmm… I usually see capitalized words in song and book titles, if not counting words on advertisements or product names." The Japanese's gaze was directed up at the sky as images of various books and song titles reappeared in his mind. "The titles can be translated into katakana, or keep their original spellings. But sometimes only a limited number of letters in the words are capitalized, depending on the liking of the artists… Wait, so that means this is…?"

"A title?" The sophomore gaped unbelievingly, while Allen's eyes went as wide as saucers. "You mean… This is just some kind of marketing?"

"We can't jump to conclusions yet." The Japanese shoved his hands into his pockets. "Our only clue is this single word sent to Moyashi's desk, thus the writer's identity and intention remain unknown. We're checkmated, and there's no point investigating this case anymore."

"…Yeah, right. Maybe we just need to throw this into the garbage can and act like nothing happe- Senpai!" The other two boys turned their head to the addressed individual walking to their place.

"Ohayo, Lenalee-chan." Still with his usual encouraging smile. "You too, Yuu, and Allen-kun."

"Call me that and you die, baka Usagi." Sometimes Kanda felt he just repeated this sentence as a habit only to his red-haired Norwegian classmate. "Anyway, do you know anything about this?" He picked the paper from the British's hand and shoved it into the redhead's palm.

"… 'Realization'?" Lavi tilted his head confusedly. "What is this about, guys?"

"Well, Allen-kun found this paper in his desk this morning," Lenalee retold the situation. "We're just wondering if you can help us figure this out." The Japanese raised an eyebrow, recalling the girl's suggestion of ignoring the case in his mind.

"…We're all as clueless as each other, Yuu." The redhead returned the paper to its legal owner. "But it's a pleasure to help you guys. I'll try to find the owner of this stroke, maybe he or she is a student here. You and Lenalee will use the simple solution of asking around, and Allen… You'll go with me."

"Huh?" The boy was stupefied. "Why me out of three, Senpai? I can't just wander around peeking on others' notebooks!"

"I'm not saying that you'll do the same work as me, Allen-kun." Lavi placed a hand on the freshman's shoulder. "You just need to remember the names of the suspects and sned the record to me later. Well, so you need to follow me wherever I go, that's quite a bother to you, right?"

"…Not at all?" The freshman crossed his arms and cocked his eyebrows. "Still, if your fangirls rush into you, I'll get beaten also. Anyway, I agree with your arrangement."

"Me too!" The Chinese waved her arm gleefully, and the Japanese still with his emotionless face. The redhead nodded and announced, "All right then, so we'll start at lunchtime. Find us on the third floor, we'll be around there, if you find out something… Now what were you talking about, Lenalee? We need an urgent article for tomorrow?"

"…Quite like that. I got all the information here, and I need your help." The girl waved the small notebook in front of her face, which the junior took a quizzical look at.

"What is this article's topic?" The girl's smile grew into a ridiculous grin.

"About our multiracial environment?" It was the redhead's turn to be stupefied.

"Why would we write about it?"

"Err… Because the writing unit has run out of ideas, and they asked me to make a quick survey of students' opinions about learning in a multicultural environment."

"…I haven't heard about that surve-" He was cut off by a hand gripping on his wrist and dragging him mercilessly to the building, leaving behind his two male friends with a funny expression on their faces.

The white-haired turned to his Senpai all of the sudden. "Need for defense… Right away."

"Why would I?" The Japanese raised his eyebrow quizzically.

"Your fans are heading towards us." The British pointed at a group of people rushing towards them with dust flying around them and earthshaking sounds representing their footsteps. "I suggest a good run to our classrooms. We're not having any P.E. class, so a late morning exercise would be just excellent."

"…"

"Oh gosh! Don't tell me you've forgot the first time ever you've participated in the kendo competition!" The boy ruffled his own hair in frustration. "Right after that a bunch of both male and female fans rose up for you, and tried their best to disturb your personal life! I remember that list!" He crossed his arms again and humphed. "Just because you look both masculine and feminine, stupid…"

"Pardon me?" A creepy aura also known as miasma surrounded the British threateningly, adding to the sudden politeness of the kendouka, and sent shivers down his spine.

"…We need a really good run." If anything that could be used as a weapon was here, Allen would definitely be chopped meat, thanks to a so-called kendouka who excelled in using any kind of shaft as a shinai. And he thought his excuse was lame. "They are just about three meters to our place." But his mathematic skills weren't.

"Good calculation there, Moyashi." Seriously, what kind of compliment was that when a certain hated word was added directly after? Still, they started their 'exercise' simultaneously, and with their athletic skills, ran as fast as they could to their classrooms.

But there was only one thing different.

Allen's mind was just orienting the direction to his classroom, while Kanda's was split to think of two separated things. Orienting, of course, and the other…

As far as he could remember, Usagi's song wasn't titled.

And there were a few words that were pronounced very much like Japanese trancriptions for 'Realization'. He swore he could hear Norwegian-accented 'Riirazeishon' somewhere during the song.

That was it. He must go ask Usagi at lunchtime.

* * *

"God blessed you, Lenalee." A depressed voice greeted the female editor exhaustedly. The girl turned around to be greeted with a miserable Allen holding his work in trembling hands.

"W-What happened to you?" The girl gaped in panic and was about to get the first aid box when the boy shrugged and handed her the edited papers.

"Blame BaKanda and his attraction," the boy grimaced remembering the best sprint he'd ever had. "I was lucky that I reached my classroom and shut the door on time, or else I would be smashed potato served with a baked fish known as that girly bastard, if he also didn't escape."

"…I get it." The girl pulled out a chair for her friend. "Anyway, how did you make it during the last period?"

"I'm quite used to exhaustion, so there wasn't any problem at all to keep my eyes wide open." The British took the cup of fresh hot tea from the girl's hand with respect. "And my hand still works well, thus my legs are wrecked bones and flesh." He sighed relieving the sore limbs with his free hand. "I suppose that stupid kendouka takes it much better than me. Anyway, have you finished your article?"

"Yup! Here it is!" The girl exclaimed cheerfully shoving the paper into the freshman's hand. The boy read the seemingly unedited paragraph and gave the piece back to the editor with an astonished expression.

"Wow… The literature is incredible," he complimented. "…But it doesn't involve anything about multiracial environment or something like that. You didn't write it, did you?"

"Nope. Senpai changed the topic and wrote this article all by himself." The girl flipped the fountain pen and tapped it on the paper lightly. "He suggested writing about the contestants' feelings during this three-day countdown, and gave me a whole bunch of quotes that he received when some friends went talking to him. Now to think of it, I should've invited him to the editing unit a long time ago."

"Well, so why didn't you?" A foreign voice interfered the ongoing conversation. "And I supposed you had just a good run the way it is, Allen-kun."

"S-Senpai!" The British exclaimed surprisedly. "When did you get in here?... And why are your arms around my shoulders?" He was definitely blushing, he could feel his cheeks heated up and hear Lenalee's quiet snicker.

"…Is this gesture embarrassing?" Asked the redhead resting his head on the back of the chair. "It isn't much of a problem in my homeland, though…"

"N-No! Not at all!" He wasn't prepared to when his Senpai was this close to him. But the heavenly rose scent mixed with vanilla was hypnotizing him…

"Anyway," the redhead withdrew his arms instantly, leaving a slightly embarrassed and disappointed freshman. "I just come here to tell you that the printing unit needs to see the article, and they've run out of paper." The Chinese girl raised her eyebrow oddly.

"I thought we just bought them a container last week."

"I don't know, they just said the paper box was empty." The redhead leaned on the desk and crossed his arms thoughtfully. "…Wait a minute, is the editing unit using paper from the same box?"

"No. We have our own supply somewhere around the storage house," the British pointed to the hallway that led to the storage house. The junior nodded and took the article paper from the desk.

"Then I'll ask them for more details," he winked to the two editors before heading to the exit hurriedly. And you know what their reactions would be.

Lenalee giggled, and Allen was bearing a bright red face and struggling with his Senpai's incredibly attractive gesture a few seconds ago.

"…What about the 'REALIZATION' case?" The Chinese reminded her lower-classman. Somehow she'd made up the name for their investigation, based on their subject of research.

"Huh? Oh right." The boy relaxed on the chair, stretching his still hurting legs. "Senpai has already left, and my legs are all the way limp, so I think you might be working alone…"

"Nope, I'm here to take care of you!" The Chinese refused to leave. "Since I bear my responsibility to your life as one of your best friends, I won't leave until I see you fine and safe! Got it?"

"…Yes?"

"Good." Allen suddenly developed this funny thought of Lenalee being his sister or mother. He wondered what would he have been like if the thought had been true.

"Anyway, I suppose I won't be able to work much from now on."

"Why?"

"My part-time job is taking it out of me, and I can barely lift my arm when I come home." The girl suppressed a laughter.

"OK then," she tapped her palm on the white sheet. "So I'll ask Senpai for the replacement. He's an expert at writing articles and editing, and I'm quite sure he can handle three-fourths of your work without any problem."

"But don't you think it would be quite bothersome?"

"But it's _you_ he's helping. I'll take the rest of the workload, and you can rest after your work time then." The sophomore flipped the fountain pen while putting on a fair smile.

"Uhm…" The boy winced as his thigh signaled a painful jolt. "Ouch… That hurts…"

"So rest here first and don't move until lunchtime is over." The girl switched to a comforting smile similar to that of a certain Senpai's. "Have you eaten your lunch yet?"

"Yeah, before I crawled here," the freshman sighed and closed his eyes to relax his mind.

"…OK then, I'll just enjoy my lunch then." The girl took out her lunchbox and ate quietly, while the white-haired's eyes remained closed, his breath soft and even, enjoying a peaceful thirty-minute nap.

* * *

He roamed around the corridor, trying to think of his next destination, anywhere but the rooftop and his classroom. Maybe he'd return to the editing unit's lounge, or visit the kendo club…

"Oi! Baka Usagi!"

And he developed the thought that his mind should probably shut up, since the last thoughts would just come true instantly.

"What's up, Yuu?" His classmate held his wrist tightly in his warm palm, a complete contrast to his serious frowning face. He was then dragged into his classroom, the first destination that he didn't want to end up inside.

"Have you got the title for your song?" The whispered question got him dumbstruck, instead of his usual threat of making soba with rabbit meat if he ever had the guts to repeat that taboo name.

"W-Why do you ask?"

"Because I heard that word in your song," the Japanese put his hands on the redhead's desk. "That word 'REALIZATION'."

The redhead was silent for a few seconds, then a smile appeared on his lips like he was trying to put it on. "Why do you care?"

"Because if the word is the title of your song, I will conclude that you wrote that song specially for Moyashi!" The kendouka snapped, but fortunately no one paid any attention to them.

Lavi didn't reply. He rested his chin on his entwined hands and lowered his gaze on the light brown surface. He was afraid his secrets would be revealed, being a reserved person that he was, and he was only ready when he truly wanted to show the song to his beloved.

"…I just want to ask, why do you care?"

"Because you're a jerk that adds yourself at the bottom of your list!" Snapped the Japanese. "If you're planning to deny your own feelings, then find a place to dig your own grave and get into the pit and die before seeing my face again! If you care for that fucking Moyashi so much, just damn confess to him already! Or else, sing your song to him!"

For once the usual demeaning voice sounded so alleviating and strangely comforting. He'd never thought his bad-tempered classmate could think of such encouraging statements instead of his notorious foul-mouthed swearing and tongue-clicking.

"Hey…" His classmate's surprisingly gentle stroke on his hair called him back to reality. "There's nothing to be afraid of. If you're certain your feelings are right, just feel free to express it. I'm sure that Moyashi is waiting for you on the other hemisphere."

"Nah… Don't try to encourage me, Yuu." His smile turned out to be rather sheepish and saddened.

"No, I'm just telling what I feel is right for you." The alleviating caresses on his hair was making him sleepy, adding to the soft and pure scent of sakura from a perfume that he didn't remember seeing from anywhere. Deep inside his mind, he was shocked at his classmate's insult-unrelated advice and the gentle gestures that he was sending to his red hair. Still, he didn't feel embarrassed or an urge to shrug away, since it was an encouragement from his best friend, after all.

"Are you really comforting me, or is this just a dream?"

"You aren't even sleeping, baka Usagi."

"…Thanks a lot."

"…Che."

* * *

The glasses were all cleaned and neatly arranged on the wooden shelf. He leaned on the table exhaustedly, trying his utmost to keep himself awake and alert. The café was vacantly quiet, and he could see that perhaps he was the only individual in the medium-sized house, since the owner of the shop had gone to the storage room and had probably left by the side door.

Well, not until the jingling bell above the main door snapped him awake. And he was even more alert seeing the newcome customer.

"S-Senpai?"

The redhead raised his eyebrow observing the internal of the café and the present bartender. "Wow… I didn't know that you have a job here!"

"S-Sorry that I didn't tell you, Senpai," his voice softened and reduced its volumn.

"No, that's all right. I have a part-time job, too," the redhead smiled understandingly.

"Really? What do you do?" The bartender asked interestedly.

"I work as a cashier in the grocery store across the street. But today is my day off, so I came here for something to drink… What do you have?"

"Here's the menu." The bartender handed his upperclassman the nicely decorated sheet. "So you said you work in the grocery store… But seriously, I don't see you around."

"Maybe because the newspapers' rack covers me from your sight." The redhead pointed to a spot under a line of words. "So why are you working alone?"

The bartender took a look at the silent order, and turned to the cupboard and took a regular juice glass. "The owner has probably left," he replied taking the sugar and a small spoon. "I'm not quite sure, but I've tried calling her a few times and she didn't respond. And my day's almost over, so I'll probably have to go home without saying anything to her."

"Didn't she tell you where she was about to go?"

"No. You know, she is kind of a secretive person," the silver-haired mixed the orange juice with the sugar. "I didn't know she was a tomboy until I heard my peer telling about her riding the roller-coaster several times at the old amusement park when she was still a schoolgirl. It shocked me, since she doesn't look at all strong and active, but she does acts like a male with that cold façade and the habit of smoking…"

"We sure know a lot of tomboys in our lives, heh?"

"Yeah… How about your boss?" Asked the bartender sliding the juice glass to his customer professionally.

"She isn't that kind of lady who relies on others, either," said the redhead taking a sip of freshly made juice. "But she hates noises and activities that require too much energy. Like a slacker, I may assume, that's why she decided to open the shop so that she wouldn't need to move around very often… And this juice is delicious."

"Glad you like it," replied the bartender with a gleeful smile. He just received a compliment from his Senpai!

"How long do you have to work everyday?"

"From seven to nine. After that my peer replaces me." Narein was a good friend and an excellent employee, and his ability of working overnight astounded both his peers and the boss. So he was chosen for the night shifts, from nine to around midnight, and was always the last person to leave the café, after cleaning the shop. "How about you?"

"Just like you. The thing is the store is closed right after my shift ends, so no one has to stay up too late." This was the first time ever he talked to his Senpai about his school-unrelated life, and he wanted to share much more with his crush. But he just found himself gazing at the angel before his eyes, wordlessly and dreamily, no matter how loud his subconsiousness screamed trying to wake him from the bliss.

"Anyway, would you like to hang out after this?"

"…Hanging out?" His subconsciousness was obviously dancing with joy.

"Yup. You take it as whatever you think, but I still think this is a date," the redhead smiled jokingly.

'A date?' Was this a dream came true? "A-All right then… So where are we going?"

"Let's go to the park. It's snowing outside."

"Really? It's snowing?"

"Uhm. Just a few minutes ago."

"All right!" The boy squealed in excitement. The redhead looked at his beloved silently, seeing how the pureness of his silver-white hair flowed harmoniously like the falling snow. The main reason for him to love winter was the white droplets cascading from the sky in just the perfect way to create a peaceful scene. He remembered those days when he played in the white fields with his father, and they got home all covered in snow and flushed after several games along with the soaring moments of father and son. Nostalgia was forever a precious memory to cherish, even if he knew it was impossible to return to the wonderful childhood time with his family and the winter games…

"Let's go."

* * *

The park was situated among the edge of a nearby hillside, only about a hundred meters high. From it people could observe the entire layout of the city, along with a faraway mountain range and a forest probably named Ryougi. In spring, the sakura trees in full bloom sent the pinkish-white petals to the city, and in winter, the falling snow created an even more fantastic scenery. It was voted the most favorited spot of the province, therefore it was hard to reach because of the exhaustingly long stairway, a pain for vehicles and weak walkers.

And of course, the snow was floating among the cool breezes, blending with the wide scenery of the city. The angels were likely sending those pure droplets down to Earth, the most wonderful decoration for winter and its coldness. The blessing of winter was certainly the snowy weather, they both noted.

"Wow… It's so wonderful!" Exclaimed the British spreading his arms and enjoying the soft fluffy drops clinging to his equally white hair and his brown coat. The redhead leaned on the white rail and observed the landscape quietly, his emerald green scarf fluttering with the wind. It wasn't as cold as England and Norway, but still as glamorous and peaceful.

"Hey…"

"Yes?" The British turned to his Senpai.

"Do you love snow?"

"Why, of course I do! Everyone loves snow!"

"No, I mean…" His voice became a soft whisper. "Do you really love snow?"

"…Why are you asking me that?"

"…It's nothing." His Senpai's attitude addled him, like he was about to say something else, but couldn't find a proper way to lead to the main topic.

"Snow is something that calms people's hearts and souls, and gives them a little moment to think about their lives." He placed his arms on the rail, beside his Senpai's. "It's like the raindrops and the sunshine, oblivious to their time and their existence in the world… I sometimes find myself blending into their silent rhymth, as a little drop floating in midair for a brief moment before following my kind to the wet ground…"

"That's romantic," commented the redhead with a soft smile.

"I just think so," replied the British. "Our lives are just as fragile and temporary as the snowflakes, compared to that of the life cycle. We'll just appear from nowhere in the sky, land on the ground and melt, clueless to what life has given to us. People are naturally aimless and lost, my father taught me that."

"He must be a philosopher, then."

"No. He thinks of different philosophies after his experiences. Sometimes they are incomprehensible, like implements in literature, but when you understand their meanings, you'll find them just right and logical."

"Uhm…" And they dove into the comfortable silence of the snowy scene, their eyes focused on the seemingly glittering white flakes. No matter how strong and chilly the wind became, the snowflakes would just keep their pace and sometimes lingered in the air to observe their world before letting the gravity pull them freely.

It was almost midnight, but none of them cared. The city was still awake, as tiny shadows of people were still moving on the narrow streets and the white and blue sparkling lights were on. And the snow was still falling, innocently and carefreely, accumulating under their feet and clinging on the branches of the old sakura trees.

"Hey…"

"Is there anything else?"

"Yes." His voice was firmer this time. "You know… The snow has always reminded me of you."

"Why is that?"

"Because of… your hair." The redhead reached out his hand to gently stroke the boy's white strands. "It's unique and… special to me. I like the color white, and I like snow, so…"

The boy was wordless, completely obsessed to the fact that his upperclassman was stroking his hair. His face was red obviously not because of the chill, while a heavenly feeling was swirling around his body. He suddenly felt his hair was more special to him than before, and he could sense the scent of rose and vanilla blending on every touched strand. And more on his chin and neck… Wait a second…

He felt a sudden warmth wrapping around his neck, the hypnotizing scent slowly absorbed into the chocolate-brown fabric of his coat. Emerald green was warming him and sparkling before his eyes, and he noticed his Senpai's scarf wasn't around his neck.

"S-Senpai?"

"Shh…" The warmth was now circulating around his body literally, as he felt warm arms circling around his shoulders. His face was probably the warmest, since it was blushing at its utmost, and he found himself blinking quickly in shock and bliss.

"I need some comfort…," the redhead whispered quietly. "I don't want to be lonely… I want to feel another existence beside me…"

The white-haired stood still, savouring the wonderful scent from the embrace. Both of them were lonely, and the only source of solace was from each other. The snow was cold on their shoulders, but none of them cared. They felt like the snowflakes, unknown to time, unknown to their existence. Deepening the embrace, they buried their thoughts under their presence, and the snow was suddenly very warm.

"I'm lonely, too, Senpai," he whispered softly against the other's shoulder. "And I've always wish… to meet that someone who I really love…"

"Have you met that person yet?" Murmured the redhead gently, his hand still stroking the soft white strands.

"…Yes, but he probably wouldn't answer." The teen buried his face into the scented fabric of the other's coat.

"Oh…" The Norwegian loosened his embrace and moved his hands to the green scarf on the boy's neck. "So to compensate, this scarf is my early Christmas gift to you, OK?"

"S-Senpai?" The boy also raised his hands to the warm wool scarf. "But this is your scarf…"

"It's all right." The redhead put on a soft smile. "This is my gift for you. Your birthday is on Christmas Day, right? I'll get you another present by then… Oh it's late. I need to come back, so see you again tomorrow!" With that he waved the boy goodbye and sprinted to the stone staircase, his figure slowly disappearing behind the bushes and the trees.

"S-Senpai! Wai-" The white-haired teen stood still for a moment, his gloved hand sliding along the emerald fabric, feeling its warmth on cold skin. He'd received the first gift from his crush, and also the first embrace not from his father. The brief moment was like a treasure worshipped in his memory palace, with the warm arms that he'd been longing for wrapping around his cold body, confidential whispers and a meaningful present before the holiday. A blissful feeling was overflowing, driving the coldness away, blending into the small white droplets still pouring from the lightened sky.

When he got home, his coat was covered in a rose and vanilla scent, and the warm green fabric was still encircling his neck.

* * *

_December 25th, 2004._

_Kokutou High School's Auditorium, 10:06 AM._

He wondered why Lenalee pleaded him to come to the talent show, since he'd already decided to go there by himself. The girl also instructed him to take a first row seat, for an obscure reason of 'I-want-you-to-have-the-best-view' of something… Still, he was here, but there was no sight of a double-ponytailed sophomore anywhere. Maybe he was too early, since only a few students had come, and not all the lights were on. There were audible noises coming from behind the curtain, indicating everyone was still busily preparing for the show, and nothing was properly ready as sounds of dragging objects echoed loudly in the hall.

"Ah, Allen-kun!" Lenalee stuck out her head from behind his seat.

The caught-off-guard held his thundering heart. "L-Lenalee?" He stammered. "What took you so long? Where were you?"

"Oh, I was in the dressing room helping the girls with their outfits, and had a little business with Kanda-kun and Senpai…"

"They didn't register for the show."

"…Of course they didn't, but one of them will soon," replied the girl with a mysterious wink.

"…Why would that kendouka participate in the show?"

"…Ah right, why would he…"

"Don't say that this is a plan of you guys'…"

"N-No! Why would we set up a plan like this?" The girl waved her hands in panic. "We're just… err… helping out! Yeah, helping out! Right, why would we join the show, heh?" Her sheepish laughter was indeed suspicious, but he chose to ignore it.

"A-Anyway, just stay here. I need to return to the dressing room for, err, some business with Senpai!" With that, the girl quickly got out of the seat row and hopped behind the stage hurriedly, leaving behind an addled white-haired twitching awkwardly.

"What exactly is her business with Senpai, anyway?"

* * *

The occupants of the room were staring at them curiously. They didn't understand why they were standing in the middle of the dressing room, with their fangirls surrounding them, oblivious to their unzipped dresses, unbuttoned shirts and undone hair. The redhead was trying his best to keep his distinctive smile, while the Japanese was having a hard time trying not to growl and stomp away and knock down the door, knowing a few boys were outside waiting for his temper to explode, and then… Nah, he wouldn't like to talk more about it. By the way, they were told to come to the room to help the performers on their costumes and make-up, and obviously they didn't find any work for them to do, since there was already a designer and a perfume supplier, and the contestants had prepared all their clothes by themselves.

According to the show arrangement, which they got from the editing unit's special document rack, there were a total of twelve performances, most of the performers soloists, about two or three groups, a piano performance of 'La Campanella', and a violin performance of 'Ave Maria'. The first group and the soloists were the females from their unit, and they bet the girls would show off something simply impressive and unique to get attention from their Senpai. Still, they didn't like the odd gazes the dressing contestants were sending.

What took that sophomore so long? She was the one who told them to come, adding she'd come later for the violin preparation. But the instrument was already here, hence the girl hadn't showed up yet. They suspected she was just finding an excuse for her secret plans, and if they were victims, graves had been dug to welcome them affectionately.

A soft knock on the door was accompanied by an "It's me, Lenalee". At least the girl had arrived, or else they wouldn't be able to escape from this staring contest. "Sorry for being late, guys. I was searching for the violin an- Oh, it's here already? Ah it took me ages browsing every corner of this school!" Oh, she was telling the truth, after all.

"…I thought you saw Cloud-san bringing the violin along the hallway," the redhead raised an eyebrow quizzically.

"No, I didn't. I was probably searching in my classroom so I couldn't see her…" The girl rolled her eyes twice. "Oh, like you mentioned, I haven't seen Cloud-san anywhere. She told me to wait in the teacher's lounge, but I went there on time and she was nowhere to be seen… Did she tell you where she was going?"

"Who knows? But she turned to the way to the instrument storage room, maybe she thought that you were there…," another occupant spoke. "Anyway, what did you call Senpai here for? They seemed all the way confused about their reasons for being here." The older teens stared at the speaker oddly.

"…Err…Special help?" Two pairs of quizzical eyes turned their stares at the sophomore. "…I don't know who to ask for help, so I told them to be here… Oh right! I haven't told them about their tasks yet!" She pointed to the platform. "All right then, I need someone who can tune the piano, and…"

"You mean… We're here only to work with that?" Scowled the ebony-haired Japanese.

"Only? Tuning the piano is never an easy work!" Retorted the Chinese.

The redhead crossed his arms. "I'm quite used to piano maintenance, so tuning is not so difficult for me. OK then, I need a helping hand, and Yuu being here isn't a waste of time." A silent mutter of "Call me that again and die, baka Usagi" was spotted by the chuckling female 'investigator'.

"Thanks for helping again, Senpai," the girl directed a smile to the Norwegian. "…The show is in fifteen minutes! How long does it take to tune a piano?"

"It won't take too long, if the piano is still in good quality and hasn't been rusted yet," replied the redhead professionally. "Better start my task from now, or we'll have to pause the show for our maintenance."

"OK." The girl quietly followed her Senpai to the stage, where the grand piano was neatly and solemnly placed. After a little recheck, the redhead asked for a piece of cloth to clean the rim and some maintenance tools to repair some stray parts. The occupants gaped seeing their Senpai as a professional piano mechanic, with smooth hands roaming through the pegs and the ebony-black surface. 'I didn't know this,' thought the Chinese watching in awe, wondering how Allen would be like if the curtain was pulled up.

_Three minutes later…_

"Finished!" The occupants gaped again. 'That was fast…'

"Thanks for the help, Senpai," the Chinese bowed respectfully, receiving the tuning fork from her upperclassman. "Would you mind helping us in the tuning part in the New Year show?"

"I wouldn't mind… But there's no talent show in New Year's Day, Lenalee-chan," replied the Norwegian addledly.

"Well, I heard Cloud-san discussing that matter during the teachers' council," stated the girl vaguely, earning 'you-actually-eavesdropped-the-teachers'-council?' looks. Realizing everyone was staring at her oddly, she fidgeted and waved her hands nervously, "It was during breaktime, and I was passing by, it was totally coincidental!" The staring was less tense, but there was a lingering thought of 'teachers-do-not-have-meetings-during-students'-breaktime'.

"So then… There'll be a talent show in New Year's Day?" The Norwegian cocked his eyebrow perplexed.

"…I don't know, I didn't stay there long enough to listen to the conclusion." 'She was eavesdropping, after all,' thought all the staffs present on the stage.

"…OK then?"

"Then what?"

"None of the performers has finished dressing up," stated the redhead obviously. The contestants were still for a brief moment before realizing what their Senpai had suggested and rushed into the dressing room noisily, leaving behind three sweat-dropping staffs on the platform.

"…Wow," commented the Chinese twitching awkwardly. "None of the females was ashamed of how they look."

"…They were too busy drooling overt a baka Usagi over here," the Japanese spared a sarcastic glance at his best friend.

"As if." If the females had lingered here for a little moment, they would've squealed madly seeing their Senpai _pouting_. "You're a hot spot, too, Yuu. They weren't just staring at me, you know."

"…Che," the Japanese huffed and turned his sight to the crimson curtain. 'Moyashi is already here, huh?'

Lenalee looked around checking if anyone was there, then handed a few pieces of paper to her red-haired Senpai. "Here's what I've brought for your kind of reluctant decision."

The redhead took the pieces and realized they were his music sheets. "B-But... I haven't really made up my mind..."

"Come on, you can play this after the show's over," suggested the girl pleadingly, earning an almost impossible nod of approval from the kendouka. "I'll try to keep myself out of your business, and this will be a guaranteed opportunity that we, your best buddies, have provided especially for you." 'Wow, this is certainly hard work…'

"…But…"

"This is a good chance for you to convey your feelings for him," confirmed the Chinese. "Since you're the one giving him the clue of your song, and I can tell how hard you worked on the piece, I'm sure that he'll be very happy hearing your confession."

"…How can you tell that he'll be happy?"

"As if I don't understand humans' feelings. Come on, just play it, OK?"

"…You're acting just like a match-maker," the redhead sighed.

"And I just said that I'll leave you guys alone," she replied. "…Better go help our peers. See you around!" With that, the girl hopped to the dressing room, and soon after, the two boys followed her quietly.

Luckily enough, they spoke too quietly for a certain white-haired audience member sitting on the other side of the curtain to hear.

* * *

The show wasn't at all appealing, in his opinion. Like every contestant was just trying to simply prove their talents, not expressing any of their emotions inside their performances. Lenalee, who had asked him to save a seat next to him for her, had commented the same, and the details she listed in her notebook for her article weren't at all good compliments. Both of them wondered whether it was a good idea to have come here and watching their peers performing boringly, and they could see other audience members yawning and chatting casually, not paying attention to the show. And the judges didn't give them high scores, either. Maybe because it was the first Christmas talent show, and the performers were all inexperienced?

'Thank God this is over…,' thought the freshman getting up from his seat. The Chinese girl had left right after the eighth performance, saying that she had some urgent business to solve, leaving her best friend all alone and nearly fallen asleep. Perhaps he could look for her in the editing unit's office, since that was the place the sophomore visited the most.

Suddenly, a mellifluous melody soared from behind his back. What the…? The twelfth performance was over! He didn't remember hearing of any extra performance, nor there was a mistake in the announcement. And most importantly, the curtain was down, so he couldn't see who was playing the piano on the stage after the show was over.

_I was too busy searching for you  
__In the empty meadow, where words flutter and glow like fireflies_

The melody was just perfect, and the freshman found himself mesmerized by the soft voice that reverberated in his mind continuously. But it was too familiar to be true…

_Following the trace of the moon,  
__Wandering in a glass world put together by just two pieces of a puzzle_

He couldn't believe in his ears anymore. Was that…?

_Sometimes I ride my old fellow bike  
__Onto the lonely hill, where I can have the full view of the city  
__I wish you were there beside me  
__Waving away sadness, smiling for the blooming flowers_

_The diary that has always listened to my confidence  
__Is storing words that I cannot comprehend  
__The fading dreams are swaying  
__Like endlessly spinning wheels_

His footsteps were heavy on the carpeted floor, getting closer and closer towards the curtained stage. Like a hypnotized person walking absent-mindedly towards his possessor, he stopped in front of the stairs leading to the wooden base.

_REALIZATION has awakened, hasn't it?  
__"In an unnamed place, where you're standing  
__With pure white petals dancing with the wind"  
__The blossoms of sadness are telling a forgotten fairytale..._

_I was too busy searching for you  
__In the forest edge, where a child was heard singing a lonely lullaby  
__I guess that you're just too carefree to notice  
__That I'm so bashful to tell you __my desperate need for the warmth of your hand_

He hesitated to pull up the crimson fabric and reveal the wonderful pianist just approximately a meter and a half away from where he was standing. He'd figured out the true meaning behind the word 'REALIZATION' given to him; it was the heart and soul of this heavenly singer.

_Give me your hand__… I'm pleading  
__Because this moment will soon be carried away by the wind…_

For a brief moment, he stopped breathing from tension, hence his heart was racing like mad. The song was so sad and forlorn, like when someone was trying so desperately to transfer his overflowing feelings into every single note.

"_The Earth has stopped spinning, hasn't it?"  
__But I know that time and space wouldn't matter, being with you…_

He suddenly remembered the first time he'd been to a concert. After a heartfelt and sad performance, the pianist had collapsed on his precious instrument crying for his 'lost love'. The man had cried so hard that some audience members had been unable to hold their tears, and that single heartfelt moment had left everyone who'd been in the concert deep in thoughts. His father had told him that artists usually cried out loud when they felt that they'd failed to transfer all of their feelings into their pieces, and perhaps the pianist's grief had overflowed right after he finished his already perfect repertoire. He felt like almost crying at the moment...

_Just blame on my weaknesses  
__Just blame on my tears  
__It's OK, because you won't disappear  
__As long as I'm asleep_

_So __as to convey what my piano can't say,  
__Let's call for the light  
__Of __a dream that I'll have to try forever to reach_

The suddenly quiet interlude followed the rhymth in a strangely strict manner, against the concept of 'naturale'. It felt like both the pianist and the song were crying, or trying to reveal a secret. He was so confused and touched that he couldn't moved his own fingers; it was like the sad melody was hypnotizing him like a chant of sorcery.

_When was the last time you said goodbye to me?  
__I just want to remember the times I said hello to you  
__I don't want to see you standing there, alone  
__I__n the grassy field, where shadows of words turn into fluttering fireflies  
__As if __REALIZATION has showed me  
__"A fragment of this void world neatly folded in your warm hands  
__With pure white petals dancing with the wind"  
__The blossoms of sadness are singing for a newborn story..._

_I don't want to wake up  
__I don't want to leave you behind  
__REALIZATION has showed me your place  
__I'm pleading, please give me your hand…_

A few more piano notes, and everything returned to silence. His expression changed instantly from a bit of sadness and understanding to indescribable nervousness. Perhaps his rapid heartbeat were audible, and he gulped nervously wondering whether he should step up or run away. His knuckles were as white as snow, and despite the cold weather, a few droplets of sweat were running on his cheeks. And he decided to do the bravest action that he thought he'd ever done.

Pulling up the curtain.

That was a very difficult task, if you were him at that time.

And he felt he was going to faint regretting what he'd done.

The redhead sighed after withdrawing his hands from the keyboard, thinking that no one was hearing him except for his two Asian friends who were cleaning up the dressing room, even if that wasn't supposed to be their job. Pulling down the lid, he stood up and was about to leave when a swishing noise caught him off guard. Startled and panicked, he turned to face the so-called disturber, and felt his heart racing at the speed of light seeing the white-haired British, who looked as dumbstruck as the Chinese girl when she first heard him sing. They stared at each other petrified, thinking of proper explanations with their messed up minds.

"S-Senpai!?" The first word was blurted out not so proficiently. "D-Did you just…?"

"Shh!!" The redhead signaled for silence, realizing there was no reason for him to hide since he was standing the nearest to the piano. "Please… Don't tell anyone else about this! I…I…"

"N-Not even Lenalee and BaKanda?"

"…They…They already knew…"

"What? You told the grumpy kenshi before me?"

"…B-Because…" That was probably the first time the redhead found himself so embarrassed as he fell on the bench senselessly.

"Because of what?" The British had found more confidence to step nearer to his upperclassman. "You have the best voice I've ever heard, and your composing ability is just incredible. Why did you tell the others, not me?" The redhead fidgeted, a blush creeping on his face instinctively, and he lowered his gaze until his bangs hid his eyes from the other's view.

"B-Because…" His voice was close to a whisper. The freshman stepped closer until he was right beside his crush, close enough to see his blush and hear his quiet voice.

"Because… This song is for you."

The freshman widened his eyes, not believing in what he just heard even if the words were reverberating continuously inside his mind. His Senpai wrote this song for him? Was this the present that he promised giving him on Christmas day as the second gift for his birthday? And was the song all about… romance?

"I… I wrote this song only for you…," the redhead knitted his hands nervously. "I… I just couldn't find any other way to confess indirectly, and since you like listening to the piano, so…"

The freshman blinked at his Senpai's dedication, while his subconsciousness, betraying his not-so-joyful face, danced and skipped gleefully with flowers blooming around. Then he felt his face heating up, and colouring itself a shade of pinkish red, as he brought his arms to circle around his Senpai's warm shoulders, feeling how it slightly tensed and relaxed in his unconscious embrace. "You… did all this… for me?"

"It's… your birthday present," the redhead answered embarrassed. "L-Like I promised, I got you another present… So… Happy birthday, Allen." He shut his eyes closed and blushed even more furiously as the foreign warmth circulated through his skin, even if it was covered by the dark yellow fabric of the uniform.

The British found himself smiling gently as his chin rested on the other's shoulder. The birthday present was too special for him that he felt like he was flying. And the soft scent of rose and vanilla that gracefully wrapped on his hair and skin was all the way too comforting… His embrace got tighter and tigher, but he was cautious enough not to suffocate his Senpai.

"Thank you," was all he managed to say while his mind was dominated by bliss and joy. Slowly, his hand moved from the other's shoulder to his cheek, and gently turned the redhead's face to meet his eyes. He didn't know why he had the reaction, but at least he'd got a chance to observe his beloved detailedly. He realized that his Senpai looked more feminine than he usually was, with soft rosy lips and smooth skin, and his emerald orbs sparkled like a starry night caught inside two small telescopes. He unconsciously caressed the other's cheek, making his blush deeper and match his hair. Then his hand brought the other's face closer and closer to his, and…

The redhead tensed as the hot breaths tickled his neck and collarbone. He had never had the nerves to imagine his crush embracing him like now, and he felt his mind blurred with astonishment and overflowing with joy. Then a warm hand tenderly caressed his cheek and turned his face to meet his love's eyes, and his reflex controlled his body and demanded it to also turn to the same direction so that it wouldn't end up in an awkward twist. The boy's eyes were not completely silver, but a shade of cerulean mixed with argentine, a kind and angelic colour that he'd fallen in love with. Why was he caressing his face like this? The thought deepened his blush more and more, and somehow he had the feeling that his face was being closer and closer to the British's, and…

They had their first kiss.

The British couldn't believe that he'd let his instinct take over, but the feeling was just too blissful to deny. The soft lips that his was connected to, the inner warmth that he felt through the interaction, and the even more significant taste of vanilla inside the moist cavern… It felt like he was being glued to a magnet and didn't want to escape. Or in mechanism, a lock which fitted with a suitable key. Or in art, the colour of the background which suited the theme of the painting. Or in music, parallel keys that finally met each other forming a perfect chord. Such a wonderful feeling…

The Norwegian widened his eyes in disbelief, but closed them eventually, a blissful feeling blossoming inside his body. He could taste the faint scent of chocolate when their tongues interlocked, and shivered as the other's tongue slid on the corner of his mouth. Something needed to be done to snap him out of his fantasies, and the word here was literal. Perhaps he was daydreaming like usual, but this time the feeling was so true that he doubted his thoughts of this being just a dream. Like he was entangled in a dream that was snickering with mischief while pulling himself closer and closer to what he was truly wishing for, fulfilling his hopes. Or in mechanism, a key made to open only one lock. Or in art, the colour of small details which fitted with both the background colour and the theme of the painting. Or in music, the major triad with the perfect fifth implied in the chords. An indescribable feeling…

They pulled away hastily for air, and soon regretted their reaction. Both were blushing madly, with their eyes half-closed and their lips still parted from the lingering sensations. Their subconsciousnesses were kicking as hard as they could, screaming for another go, but their eyes were focused on each other to the point that they forgot they were breathing. None of them could believe what they'd just done was true, but there was no ambiguity, either; their existence was the only thing that mattered.

"S-Sen… pai…," the British whispered, panting, breaking the pregnant silence.

"A-Allen-kun…," replied the redhead dreamily.

"D-Did we… just…?" The white-haired asked quietly, not intending to make it a question at all.

"I-I think…," the redhead felt his head almost empty. "N-No… I… I feel… it wasn't… a dream…"

"…Really?" The British had regained his enthusiasm. "Really? So it was true after all?"

"…Why are you so exuberant, Allen-kun?" The redhead furrowed his eyebrows.

"So it's true, Senpai! Finally!" Allen pulled his Senpai into a rib-breaking hug. "I love you! I love you I love you I love you!!"

Lavi couldn't find any proper word to reply, and smiled in return, leaning into the hug. "I… love you, too."

After another brief moment of silence, Allen decided to break the silence once more. "How simple is that?" The freshman chuckled, resting his chin on the redhead's shoulder. "Just like those sappy novels… The main characters do something before they just say 'I love you' to their love… That's just too typical…"

"You mean like… we have to try another way to confess?" The redhead blinked and nuzzled the boy's chest gently, earning a slight stumble and a hand stroking his hair in response.

"Yup! Like this!" The freshman exclaimed and pulled away, bringing his hands to his hips. "'Lavi… I'd really like to be you, so that I'd be the one to write that song and sing for you. Yes, I wish you'd return my feelings…' Yes, exactly like that!"

His subconsciousness melted seeing his Senpai _giggling_. "It's my turn, right?" The redhead asked enthusiastically. "'Allen Walker… I'd really like to be the snowflakes that you love to see in the romantic scenery, the sunlight that dances on your hair every morning, the cool air of the night which enters your warm room and sleeps with you… Yes, I wish you'd see how I truly feel about you…' How's that?"

"That's just… awesome!" The freshman squealed. "You'll be a renowned novelist someday!"

"Yeah… But I want to be something else…" The redhead smiled brightly. "Like… your comb? So that I can feel your hair and be held by your hand everyday." He took the other's hand in emphasis, earning a slight blush and a soft tackle on his shoulder.

"Oh come on, you know that you can never turn yourself into a comb!" The British teased.

"But I've always wished so!" Replied the redhead jokingly.

"What a simple wish it is." The white-haired chuckled quietly.

"And silly, too, isn't it?" And they laughed in unison.

Meanwhile, in the dressing room…

"Aww, that's just so sweet!!" Squealed an over-excited Chinese directing her eyes to the stage. The Japanese just 'che'd like usual.

"I thought that you'd leave them alone," he recalled the memory sarcastically.

"So I'll bite my tongue as a punishment!" Replied the girl sticking out her tongue to the other's horror. Then she withdrew it instantly, and waved her arms in midair. "Yep, I've cut off my tongue!"

The Japanese raised his eyebrow. "Cut off?"

"Yup! With the air!" The girl stuck out her tongue again in emphasis. "See? An invisible knife!"

The kendouka was stunned for a second before sighing in realization. "Yeah, and your tongue dropped invisibly, too."

"Exactly!" Chirped the Chinese continuing to look at the newly informed couple. "Look, I've already recorded the song! Wonder what the girls will say when I show them my new ringtone tomorrow."

She switched from brightly smiling to pouting hearing her Japanese friend muttering "Lame" behind her back. Still, she couldn't hide even a bit of her happiness gazing at the lovebirds who were laughing and joking merrily on the stage. She hadn't seen them look so happy before, laughing and teasing each other like that. It was usually her who laughed and teased, and they just sent her smiles and simple replies. Now here they were, chatting casually and expressing every single piece of their emotions into their words. It was exactly what she'd been wanting to see ever since she made friends of them, and just like their wishes, hers had also come true. Maybe her Japanese companion was feeling the same, too, judging from his less tense gaze and something resembling a small smile on his lips.

A happy ending that stood for many people was something that had blossomed on the other side of the door.

* * *

The vista seen from the park was something that had never changed, and the view in summer wasn't very much different from that in winter. There were probably just the trees that lacked their leaves, the lessened amount of sunlight and the replacement of snowflakes that made all the differences, and aside from that, everything kept its original looks. He'd looked at all of his father's photographs and developed the thought that the landscapes of summer and winter could never be the same, but the arrival to Fuyuki City had completely changed his mind.

"It's probably an eternal scenery, isn't it?" Asked the redhead leaning on the rail beside him. "It hasn't changed at all ever since I moved here."

"Same to me," replied the British, mesmerized by the glamorous beauty of the landscape. "I wish my father could've been here. He'd love this landscape very much."

"Is your father an artist?" The redhead turned his head to his beloved.

"To be more precise, he's a photographer," answered the white-haired. "But photography is an art, too, right? So saying that he's an artist isn't wrong at all."

'A photographer?' Thought the redhead slightly confused. "Where's your father now?" 'What is it that I feel so strange about?'

"Oh, he's back in England," replied the British. "Do you know that exhibition that has just been reopened? He needs to be there to check on a few matters-"

"Walker!" Exclaimed the redhead, startling the British. "Mana Walker! He's your father, right?"

The white-haired was stunned at the redhead's reaction. "…Yes?"

"Oh I admire him so much!" Squealed the redhead hugging his love so tightly that he nearly popped. "At first I thought that you and he just shared the same last name, but he's actually your father! Like father like son, he's passed down the artistic talent to you!"

"Err…" The boy rubbed his head sheepishly. "A-Actually, I have no talent in photography. I can't understand most of his pictures. Especially this…" He pulled out his wallet and showed the redhead the small copy of the picture of the empty meadow that his father once showed him.

The redhead received the picture and stared at it for a moment before murmuring, "Wow… So this is it…"

"What is 'it'?" Asked the British confusedly.

"The picture that I saw in the first exhibition in Norway," explained the redhead, still hypnotized by the photo. "Even if it was just a copy of the original photo in England, I still fell in love with it immediately. And when I realized that I've also fallen in love with you, I suddenly remembered the picture, and it was the source of inspiration for me." Allen flashed him a confused look.

"How did it inspire you when it's just a plain meadow?"

"Well… At first I felt the same as you," the redhead finally escape from the enchantment and smiled at his love. "And it took quite a long time for me to finally understand its meaning."

"My father told me that because I didn't have someone to fall in love with, I couldn't understand the meaning of this picture," whispered the British.

"Maybe he was right after all." The smile still didn't leave his face. "The meadow is empty, and the only things that can be seen in the picture are grass and soil. But while I was thinking about it and asking myself why he didn't put any other things into the picture, I came to realize that it was his intention to let the viewers insert their own imaginary objects into the picture to convey their feelings. He knew that if he put his own objects into the picture, some people would like it but the others wouldn't, so he let his picture almost blank and a simple background, so that people could imagine what what would appear and exist there. He just wanted to encourage people to express their feelings and imagination."

There was a pregnant silence between them before the snowtop spoke, "…It would take me my whole life to think like you."

"And it would take me my whole life, too, to think like Walker-san," the redhead stepped up to embrace his love again, nuzzling into his shoulder.

"I think how you expressed your feelings into your song was superior," responded the British embracing his Senpai back.

"But that idea didn't come from myself," answered the redhead. "I just based on what I thought about you and the picture, and…"

"You combined the feelings perfectly," the boy completed the unfinished sentence. "It's quite hard to convey two feelings in the same song, but you did a very good job, and I absolutely like it." He couldn't see his Senpai blushing at the comment.

"T-Thank you…" The redhead buried his face into the other's neck and enjoyed the warmth and the soothing scent. "Hey… What if we try to make a real performance once, with you playing the piano and me singing?"

"Good idea!" Exclaimed the British excitedly. "But the song is quite sad…"

"…Oh…" The redhead vaguely remembered the lyrics, and it was true that the song was indeed sad.

"But it's OK," added the British. "It's a heartfelt confession, and even though it's sad, it's still perfect in its own way. At least it's not like those depressing love songs, when one lies and the other suffers and they break up…"

"This isn't the time to talk about that, right?" Whispered the redhead smiling silently.

"…Yeah," agreed the British. "We won't have to worry about those things as long as we're happy with each other's existence. And we're a new couple, so don't think about breaking up right now." The redhead nodded slightly.

"So…" The British pulled away and held out a hand. "Let's go for dinner. I bet you're starving now."

"Shall we try that new restaurant in Yoroshima Street?" Asked the redhead excitedly. It was his first true date with his beloved!

"Why of course! Better celebrate our party outside than at home, ne?" With that, Allen grabbed Lavi's wrist and pulled him down the stairs, the green scarf fluttering behind his back. Their laughter blended with the coldness of the winter night, and their run left behing clear footprints on the white ground. And the leafless trees just stood there silently, observing the couple sprinting downtown happily.

The snow didn't stop falling until the next morning.

* * *

Anyone remembers my first fic, _Kuroseki no Majutsushi_? I was supposed to depict this Lavi-senpai like Majutsushi Rabi, but with full emerald eye_s _(It would be very awkward wearing an eyepatch to a modern Japanese school) and a more outgoing character. He's still Norwegian, cuz I like him to be so (A phenomenal Norse mythology researcher I am), and he just looks so… Northern European?

And Allen's face and arm aren't deformed, and he doesn't have the huge appetite that fears every lions and vultures in the world ^^ Of course, he has no relation to Cross nor his debts. But his hair is still white, because I don't find white hair freaky at all.

The 'Quartet' is a common nickname of our four friends, which indicates that they're the four best students of the school. It's not that they're a choir of four vocalists, like in music, because Lenalee-chan and Kanda don't like singing at all (even if I rank their voices very high), and even if Allen has a good voice, he'll just stick to playing the piano.

Wonder why I chose Lavi to sing? Cuz SuzuKen's voice is godly! -squeals-

And about the dark yellow uniforms, I based them on FSN's Homurabara Gakuen's uniforms. I think they would suit the characters, and I like the female uniforms ^^

Anyway, like every fics, I greatly and sincerely appreciate reviews! (And tell me the surprise that you've recognized, if possible ^^) I'll go search for some sweet treats... Oh, who'd like some Hershey?

Arigatou gonzaimashita!

Moon-Dash


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